Guard at the Gates of Hell (Gladius Book 1)

by George Olney

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  The scouts fell softly, slowly, and nearly invisibly towards Central's night side. The destination for this particular group was Imperial City. They were going into the tiger's den and they were very careful about their actions. The best defense for scouts was the enemy not knowing they existed in the first place. Do not attract attention. If they did, half their protection was gone.

  Falling quietly and gently through Cental's atmosphere, Lieutenant Arvin worried about the drop being detected, but fatalistically decided there he was nothing he could do he wasn't already doing. He wasn't out to win a commendation. Leave that to the line troops. For scouts, getting into Imperial City just prior to daylight was enough.

  CHAPTER 14

  CLUSTER MILITARY HEADQUARTERS

  NIAD

  The room was dead quiet after the holo presentation finished. Senior Officer of the Corps Shyranne Garua wasn't sure if the silence was due to shock or horror. She'd seen the raw take from the scout data and it still disturbed her sleep.

  Imperial City was no longer the rich, shining capitol of the Empire of Ten Thousand Suns. Most inhabitants were living at a poverty level never before seen in the Empire and a good portion of the city was abandoned. One of the scouts - her son - had captured an Imperial Fleet officer cowering in one of the abandoned residential towers, hiding from an insane Emperor that wandered through the Palace computer system.

  The part about the Emperor being in the computer net was hard to believe, but confirmed by a passive tap Sergeant Liam Garua had managed to remotely emplace on a Palace terminal. What the Fleet officer told Liam under questioning with a hypnotic drug was disgusting... and an utter horror.

  Imperial organizations including the Guard - especially the Guard - were now murdering people by the thousands at the express direction of the Emperor... and doing it willingly. The drugged officer admitted he'd supervised the execution of hundreds people a week, some of them simply shot down in the streets to make an arbitrary total. Then the Emperor had shown up in his computer terminal and declared he wasn't killing enough people. That was all the reason needed for Shangnaman to pronounce him an enemy and a dead man, so he ran before he could be killed.

  Everyone in the conference room knew Shangnaman was a paranoid sociopath, but nobody was ready for the depth of his insanity. Imperial City was under the worst reign of terror in history and here in the Cluster they were only getting part of the story. Briefly, Shyranne wondered what they were going to find when they finally took down the crazy bastard, but she steered her mind away from that train of thought. The pictures it evoked weren't something she wanted to contemplate.

  "Frankly, what we are getting from our scouts is pretty hard to take, but it's all true and consistent. With what we've found, it's no longer any wonder that we've had so few probes from the Empire since the Tactine incursion. Not only do the New Fleet officers lack the willingness to come out to us, the Emperor has expressly forbidden it! That's amazing enough, but what we've gathered about conditions in Imperial City is far worse. It's turned into something worse than the Dark Age before the Empire." Admiral Lane Mackinnie said that in his usual calm, rumbling tones, but his eyes betrayed the pain he felt at the utter corruption of an Empire to which he'd dedicated his adult life.

  Chief Executive of the Frontier Cluster Randl Turner could see Lane's pain easily, Shyranne noted. General Jon Malcom couldn't, but that was because he was still a bit uncomfortable in his position as head of the Army and certainly uncomfortable in a private meeting between his civilian superior and the far more experienced heads of the other Cluster military forces.

  "Shangnaman is mad," Shyranne said quietly in Unispek for Malcom's sake. "We all knew that, but we far underestimated the effects of his madness. We currently have no idea where he's bodily located, but he's loaded his persona into the palace's computer net and seems to be conducting an irrational reign of terror on the Imperial staff... and not just them.

  "Imperial City has been deteriorating for years, even before this whole crash began. Now, the city is nothing but incredible slums on its lowest levels and a frantic decadence above that. Apartment towers are universally sealed off mid way up from street level to create separation between the ruling classes and the rest of the population. The upper classes are living well, but the rest are barely surviving. Constant searches for 'enemies of the state' among the poor kill hundreds every week."

  "Shangnaman's purge of senior officers has gutted the Imperial forces," Lane added. "That's to the good as far as we are concerned, but the military still retains enough strength and coordination to make it a tough fight when we go in.

  "The Emperor's Guard is an entirely different proposition," he continued. "Our people have only gotten flashes and hints so far, but our estimation is that they are frighteningly competent. They remain a major threat but we don't have a good handle on their strength. There are always plots against the Emperor and have been for over a century. If any of them succeeds, the thought of the Guard in competent hands isn't a pleasant one."

  "Meanwhile," Shyranne commented, "billions of people on Central are suffering in Hell."

  Randl looked back at Shyranne quietly for a moment. His face was deceptively mild, looking much like someone's beloved grandfather and hiding the shrewdness in his blue eyes. "Your plan was always to destroy the command ability of Central and leave Middle Empire as a broken force, incapable of attacking the Frontier Cluster.

  "That's a military solution, you know," he mused. "I understand military solutions from my years in the Fleet. My years in politics tell me military solutions don't go far enough. Destroying the palace and Imperial forces won't really solve the problem, simply put it off. All your plan does is leave Central in bloody ruins. Middle Empire can rebuild and we have no idea which way it would go. Besides, there are the people on Central and other Middle Empire worlds. We have to do something about that. They are as much our responsibility as the people here in the Cluster. Shangnaman has created the problem on Central, but Central's destruction will affect all of Middle Empire."

  Surprisingly, it was General Malcom that spoke up. Besides Turner, he had the most life experience as a civilian. He could see what the Chief Executive was driving at. "We've gone as far as we can militarily, Narsima Turner. What can we do beyond that?"

  Lane and Shyranne both glanced at Jon then turned to Randl. They knew what they had to do, but had no plan once the Imperial command structure was in ruins. Their plan was to simply leave and let Middle Empire fend for itself however it could, as long as it was no longer a threat to the Cluster. They only wanted to mitigate the damage and give the former Empire some basis for reconstruction, not take on the task of guiding it.

  Randl smiled at their looks. "The Executive Council and I have been talking a lot about the situation. The key here is what happens after the battle, not the battle itself."

  "Victory still isn't certain," Lane interjected, "especially with the Emperor's Guard thrown into the mix."

  Randl nodded. "No argument there. However, we also have to plan for after the battle as well as the battle itself. Your plan is basically miliary and has gone as far as it can. What happens after the battle is the Council's business and we've given it a great deal of thought. Your strategic direction is good, but it never went far enough to finish the job."

  "What are you thinking about?" Shyranne asked.

  "We have agencies and groups here in the Cluster," Randl replied. "A lot of them are still spread all over human occupied space, but the local heads have gone along with our request to remain incommunicado until we can come out of the shadows. The Church, the Mennonites, and other religions come to mind, but there are private organizations that are quite accustomed to circumstances like we've found on Central, if not as bad. We need to get them all into Central and let them go to work. At my suggestion, the Council's authorized the recruiting of political restructuring teams from these religions and organizations to rebuild Central's government
after the battle. Given what you've told me, the original politicians and bureaucrats will be useless or worse, but we can possibly use a few after a suitable vetting process. That's what's going to be needed. With proper political guidance, we can salvage Middle Empire, Central most of all."

  "Salvaging Central and Middle Empire will be a major undertaking, and one on which we hadn't planned," Shyranne said. "I'm not sure it can be done."

  "You weren't sure you could salvage the Cluster," Randl shot back, "but you did it. Reconstruction after the fighting is critical if we want to spare our children and grandchildren the job of doing this all over again."

  Shyranne looked at Randl thoughtfully then nodded agreement.

  "We have to integrate what we're doing with what you have in mind, Narsima Turner," Lane said. "We have to get our staffs together and work out a coordinated overall plan, and soon, too. We've begun preliminary preparations for attack."

  "The Fleet, the Army, the Corps, all have been given warning orders," Shyranne added.

  "We're trying to save humanity's future," Randl said firmly, "but we owe it to that future to finish the job properly. We're actually further along with planning the restructure of Middle Empire than you might think. We made the decision to start creating a plan once we were brought into your military operation for the Empire. Giving those people a new life isn't your job, Shyranne, or the job of the military in general. That's mine."

  IMPERIAL PALACE

  CENTRAL

  Tapping his finger near the hidden sensor on his terminal, Vice Regent Absolom Last contemplated the wisdom of what he was about to do. That sensor was unique to his terminal, the only one in existence unless the Guard also had one, unknown to him. Which they probably did, he thought with irritation. It enabled him to summon the Emperor, always a chancy proposition considering that Shangnaman was emotionally unstable and basically crazy - two of his good points.

  Tactine was a spectacular and costly failure. Last, the commander of that misbegotten debacle, had excuses and scapegoats ready just in case, but it didn't turn out to be a problem. Shangnaman was already so far around the bend that failure of any one of his plans simply didn't exist. No repercussions for a failure that never happened. That made life a little easier for a while then Last found himself handed the job of Vice Regent. Shangnaman was so busy discovering traitors and killing people that he no longer had time such distractions as running the Empire. Running the Empire was currently Last's job, and not a very desirable one.

  Yet again, Last wondered why he was titled "Vice" Regent. Who in hell was designated the Regent? That was an important question and one he couldn't answer. If his plans actually succeeded, the answer was going to be very, very important. At the moment, though, it wasn't germane to the current problem - and plot - requiring him to risk his life.

  You first had to identify a problem to fix it, and Shangnaman refused to admit any such thing as a problem existed. Given that his cousin - not he himself - was insane, the options weren't all that many for the Vice Regent. They weren't all that survivable, either, even if you were the only man in the universe Shangnaman relied on to run his Empire.

  He often regretted setting up Shangnaman's "Perpetual Preservation" after his appointment as Vice Regent. It seemed an easy sell at the time. Suggest putting Shangnaman's body into stasis in a secure location and convince him he would live forever that way. Give his mind limited access to the palace computer net so that all he was risking during any necessary personal appearance was a hologram. That part really sold Shangnaman.

  It seemed like a good idea at the time and tailor made for the paranoid son of a bitch. Get the crazy fool out of Last's hair and hide the Imperial body for disposal at the proper time. Last's personal IT section did the work, but something went wrong. Instead of Shangnaman only being able to appear when Last summoned him for an appearance, the insane bastard's mind found a hole or back door or something that let him into the palace net full time.

  Shangnaman's computer existence quickly turned into something quite different and deadly. Things started badly after the crazy fool got into the palace net and were far worse now. It couldn't be stopped by killing the maniacal bastard, either. The Emperor's Guard had possession of Shangnaman's body and it was hidden away under incredibly tight security. Things were not as Last had envisioned.

  Now the situation in the fragments of the Empire still controlled by Central forced him to talk to his insane cousin and any such contact was problematical, as in "will get you killed" problematical. No help for it. He tapped the sensor and waited. Shangnaman's image appeared over his terminal. The red uniform and thin circlet that confined his short curly hair actually complimented his slim, long limbed appearance, Last thought. On the other hand, the mascara, eye shadow and lipstick made the madman look like he'd been attacked by fanatical cosmeticians - or look even more insane than he already was.

  "And what did you want Us for, Last?" Shangnaman's lanky body assumed a highly melodramatic pose of irritation, his pouting face conveying the idea he was interrupted while Doing Important Things. "We were investigating several suspect peons here in the palace."

  "We have to talk, Cleon," Last said, using Shangnaman's boyhood nickname and the voice of someone highly irritated. It never paid to show weakness with Shangnaman. It also paid to remind him they'd grown up together. "You can order them killed later."

  Mecurical as always, Shangnaman suddenly favored him with a sprightly smile and his holo curled into a lotus position as it appeared to sit in mid air above his terminal. "Oh, I can always have anyone killed later. What do you have for me, Ast?"

  Boyhood nickname relationship - good. Now Last had to keep in mind the man in front of him was as unpredictable and deadly as a poisonous snake. "I just got word that the Takken Sector has split away under its governor. She's now Queen Libella, I understand. Naturally, she took the local Fleet component with her."

  A brief frown flitted across Shangnaman's face. "I ordered both her and the local Fleet commander executed for incompetence last month."

  Last hid a frown. Damn, how did he let that one get past him? Instead, he said dryly, "That may be why they rebelled."

  Shangnaman smiled impishly and gave one of his mime-like shrugs, "Well, we can't have everything, can we? We didn't need Takken anyway."

  "Except for their raw materials, food production, and two of our five remaining shipyards, I might agree with you," Last continued in the same dry voice. "However, that's not why I called you."

  "Oh?" Shangnaman asked. "Then why, pray tell?"

  "We're... ah... recovering raw materials, manufactured items, and food from the breakaway sectors with the help of your Guard as you ordered, but things have been happening out there," Last said carefully. This was the sensitive part.

  "What?" Shangnaman was frowning now. "Just who's trying to thwart Our will?"

  "I don't know, and that's what scares me," Last said frankly. Now that he had the idiot's attention, he might get something across, even if Shangnaman was back in Imperial persona again. "Your Guard is performing its usual yeoman service, but they've taken casualties. In one of the Jacobs systems, the entire recovery effort was wrecked and we don't know by whom. It might have been the Jacobs fleet, or it might have been unknowns. I've also been tracking reports of missing freighters or warships - including three more frigates to causes unknown - over the last eight months. Losses are showing up more and more often, and I don't like that. That's affecting food supplies and other major imports here on Central. We're even getting maintenance problems in the Fleet, let alone the occasional missing ship which we can't afford to lose. I'm beginning to think someone out there is trying to get to us. I'm not entirely sure we're even immune here in the palace."

  "WHAT??!!" Shangnaman shrieked, his holo leaping to its feet with fists clenched to each side of its head. "Are We in danger??!!"

  Careful now, Absolom, careful. "It's a possibility," he said in even tones, "but I want to make sure it
can't happen. We don't want someone to launch a planet buster at us. The Imperial Self could be destroyed along with the rest of us. I need to start the Fleet doing maneuvers sometime soon. Increase readiness."

  "The Fleet isn't really loyal to Us," Shangnaman pouted. "They're just saying they are."

  "I'll keep them well away from Central," Last said soothingly. "I just want to run some exercises. We'll know if the Fleet heads towards Central and have plenty of time to use the self destruct charges on the ships."

  "Oh," Shangnaman said with an airy wave of his hand and another of his impish smiles, "feel free to tell them to play. Do 'em some good to work for a change. Tell Our commanders they have Our full trust then destroy anyone you wish."

  If any of those politically appointed highbred idiots could find their ass with both hands, Last thought, Fleet exercises would be very worthwhile. Still, it wouldn't hurt.

  More to the point, exercises would also give him the chance he'd been trying to create. He had two of the major commanders on his side. While pretending to to be part of an exercise, one would get close enough for precise targeting of Imperial City. One kinetic energy projectile on the Palace quarter of the City, then good-bye Shangnaman and this whole rotten lashup. Shangnaman wouldn't be able to do anything about it because his persona was restricted to the computer net. Hopefully, they'd get his body, too. If they did, the Guard would then be under his orders since he would be the only remaining pretender to the Imperial See. Vice Regent and all that.

  If they didn't, well, another KE projo or two were available. Even a planet buster, although he'd personally regret it.

  "Well, that's settled, Ast," Shangnaman said with satisfaction. "Quite simple, really. Now I quite must be gone. There are traitors everywhere and only I can find them. Oh, ta-ta for now." The last sentence was nearly sung.

  After the holo disappeared, Last let out a breath. Still alive. That was good. Now he had to get the Fleet off its dead ass. If he could just find out where Shangnaman's body was hidden, he wouldn't need a planet buster to take over what was left of the Empire. And just incidentally stay alive.